


The War Without, The War Within

by Persiflage



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Comfort/Angst, Cunnilingus, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s01e14 The War Without The War Within, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Fingerfucking, Kissing, Magic Fingers, Massage, Missing Scene, POV Female Character, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 15:10:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18346181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: Missing scene for Discovery 1:14.





	The War Without, The War Within

**Author's Note:**

> I recently re-watched episode 1:14 for another fic, but that scene where Michael turns up at Katrina's door 'in the middle of the night' with 'a proposal' set off my Bitch Muse yesterday, so I had to write this.

When Admiral Katrina Cornwell opens the door to her quarters late that evening and finds Michael Burnham on the other side, she stands hands on hips and says, “I suppose I don’t have to tell you that it’s the middle of the night?”

“I have got a proposal,” Burnham responds. 

Katrina gives her a thoughtful look, then steps back to allow her inside. “Don't suppose this is a proposal to get me laid?” She clocks the way Burnham's eyes widen before one eyebrow lifts, and winces. “I'm sorry Michael that was a lame joke and completely inappropriate.” 

“If you need to relax, Admiral, I can help.” 

“Katrina, please, we're both off-duty right now.” She sees Michael nod, then asks, “How do you propose to help me relax?”

Michael gives her a shy smile. “When Philippa was wound too tight, I used to give her a massage – she always said I have magic fingers.”

“Well I guess it couldn't hurt to try,” she says, recalling how much Philippa cared about Michael Burnham. She can't help wondering just how close Philippa's relationship with Michael was, but she decides to save that conversation for later. “Where do you want me?”

“Anywhere you feel comfortable lying flat – the couch or your bed.” She tilts her head, a little glint in her eye, as if daring Katrina somehow, and the Admiral suddenly finds herself not just intrigued by this young woman, but also a little aroused. 

“The bed is probably easiest,” she answers. 

“Take your boots off, and your pants if that won't make you feel uncomfortable, then lie on your stomach.” 

Michael strips off her jacket and pulls off her boots, then waits as Katrina removes her own boots and her uniform pants. She half wishes she had put on fancier panties this morning, then dismisses the thought as unworthy. She stretches out in the middle of her bed and waits. 

Michael climbs up onto the bed beside her, then asks, “Are you alright with me straddling you on my knees?”

Katrina swallows before responding. “That's fine.” 

She quickly realises that Michael Burnham really does have magic hands as the younger woman begins by ghosting her fingers up and down Katrina's back and arms, before beginning to properly massage every inch of her neck, arms and back. 

She soon realises, too, that Michael's touches are turning her on, even though she's being quite professional in the way she’s touching her. 

Eventually, Michael shifts from kneeling above her to kneel beside her. “Do you want to roll over?” she asks. Katrina obeys with an effort – her limbs are feeling on the limp side and she thinks she could fall asleep quite easily but for the knowledge that Michael wanted to talk to her about work.

Michael resumes working on her legs, thumbs digging into Katrina’s tightly knotted muscles. She loses track of the time and has no idea how much has passed since Michael asked her to roll over, when the young woman’s quiet voice breaks the silence.

“Katrina?”

“Hmm?” She feels like she’s floating on a fluffy cloud thanks to Michael’s ministrations with her ‘magic fingers’, and she knows she’s never had such a good massage before.

“Katrina.” A light scrape of fingernails on her left inner thigh brings the Admiral back down off her cloud and she opens her eyes to look down the length of her body at Michael. Who is lying on her belly between Katrina’s spread legs, and she wonders how long the young woman’s been positioned there. She makes quite a picture, Katrina thinks, and feels her arousal stirring back into life with a throb in her sex.

“What is it, Michael?” she asks, sleepy and relaxed.

“Your panties are wet,” the young woman says simply. “Is that because of me?”

That slams Katrina’s awareness fully back into her body and she sits up in alarm.

“Shit,” she says, appalled at herself.

“Katrina.” Michael’s voice cuts through her incipient panic and her nails scrape over both of her inner thighs. “I’m flattered. And if it helps, I’m in the same state.”

“You are?” Michael nods. “Because of me?”

“Yes. So, could I touch you?”

“Sweetheart, I’d love you to.”

A moment later she nearly leaps from the bed as Michael drags the flat of her tongue up the length of Katrina’s sex over her panties. Then she hooks the fabric aside and slips a finger into Katrina’s slick heat.

“Fuck,” she gasps.

“You did say, when I came in, that you wanted to get laid,” Michael observes, then adds a second finger, and Katrina finds herself being well and truly fingerfucked by Michael Burnham, who very definitely does have ‘magic fingers’.

She climaxes hard, her inner walls clenching tightly around the young woman’s fingers, and she hasn’t even started to recover when Michael removes her fingers, drags off Katrina’s panties, then buries her mouth in her sopping sex.

It turns out that Michael Burnham also has a magic mouth, and she comes twice more, climaxing so hard that she’s shaking afterwards.

Michael sits up, looking justifiably smug, then moves to sit near Katrina’s right shoulder, watching intently as she comes down from her orgasms. Eventually Katrina stretches shamelessly, like a cat in a sunbeam, then she sits up and touches Michael’s shoulder.

“Thank you for that. It was exactly what I needed.” She can see that the younger woman is pleased to hear that, and smiles at her. “I should think of a way to repay you,” she teases.

“Could I kiss you?” 

The question is asked softly, humbly even, which surprises Katrina, but she doesn’t hesitate to answer immediately. “Sweetheart, I’d love you to kiss me.”

Michael leans in and presses tentative lips to Katrina’s, and the Admiral has to restrain herself from pushing for more. After a moment in which they just stare at each other, Michael shifts a bit, then presses her lips against Katrina’s a second time, but rather more firmly and she savours the taste of herself on Michael’s mouth. She hums encouragement, sliding her hand down Michael’s back, then dragging her thumbnail up the younger woman’s spine. Michael gasps, then nips at Katrina’s bottom lip before laving it with her tongue, and the Admiral opens her mouth, then licks at Michael’s lips.

After that it’s no-holds-barred kissing, both of them clasping the other closer as they nip, lick, and suck at each other’s mouth, tongues sliding and tangling together. Then Michael pushes her backwards so she’s lying down again, before straddling her and pressing her sex against Katrina’s.

“Ah!” Katrina gasps as she feels the heat between Michael’s thighs against her own sex as the young woman lies on top of her.

“Kat-Katrina. P-please. I need –”

“What do you need, sweetheart?” She nips at her bottom lip. “Tell me.”

“I need your fingers inside me,” she mutters. “Please.” 

“I can do that. Lift up for a moment.”

Michael obeys and Katrina pushes her pants and panties down off her hips, then Michael shifts so that she can get them off altogether.

“I think I’d like you naked in my lap,” Katrina tells the young woman with a smirk.

“Yes.” She gasps an agreement then sits back on Katrina’s thighs while she yanks off her tank, before quickly removing her bra.

“Gorgeous,” she murmurs, and strokes Michael’s inner thighs for a moment, before easing a finger into her sex. “So wet,” she says. “I’m going to enjoy making you come. Are you a screamer?”

Michael ducks her head. “Sometimes.”

“Mmm. Computer, privacy protocol.” The computer chirps and Katrina sees Michael’s eyes go wide. “I love making a woman scream,” she tells her.

She starts off slowly, just gently sliding her finger in and out while kissing Michael languidly. Once she’s got a good rhythm going, she adds a second finger, and Michael murmurs something indistinguishable against her throat between hot kisses. Katrina feels her own sex thrum, but she ignores it in order to concentrate on her young friend. 

“Do you think you could take a third finger?” she asks after a bit, feeling the increasing tension in Michael’s thighs as they press against her own.

“Yes,” Michael says quite firmly. 

Katrina smiles, then adds a third finger, stretching her walls and Michael cries out wordlessly, then shifts a little before beginning to rock her hips, and Katrina feels her sex clench at this active participation. She smiles again, pleased that Michael’s feeling more confident about being with her. Then the young woman sits up and begins to rock faster, at the same time as she cups her breasts and begins pinching and rolling her nipples. Katrina thinks she just might come again herself because Michael looks so beautiful and the picture she presents is so erotic.

“Come on then, sweetheart, let’s see if I can make you scream.” She clasps Michael’s hip and begins to thrust her fingers harder and deeper into Michael, smirking as she hears the other woman’s gasps and moans growing louder. 

“Yes! Fuck! Yes, there! Right there! Please Katrina!” She lets her hands drop from her breasts as she moves faster, as much fucking herself on Katrina’s fingers as being fucked by them.

“Oh fuck! Katrina, please! I’m close. I’m so close.” Then she comes, her muscles clenching so tightly around Katrina’s fingers that she cannot move them at all. She doesn’t actually scream into her climax, but there’s a definite wail happening, and Katrina feels very thankful for the privacy protocol.

She slides her free hand up Michael’s side to clasp her upper arm, and she guides her lover to lie down again as she’s looking quite likely to collapse at any moment. She groans quietly when she feels Michael’s inner muscles loosen and withdraws her fingers carefully – her hand feels a bit numb, truth be told. 

“Are you alright?” she asks, stroking her free hand lightly up and down Michael’s back as she hasn’t said a word since she climaxed. Then she realises that Michael is weeping, quietly, and she feels an internal lurch at the discovery, wondering if she’s hurt her after all.

“I’m sorry,” Michael says, rolling off her to lie on her back next to Katrina.

“What are you sorry for, sweetheart?”

“For being selfish enough to take advantage of you. I miss Philippa.”

 _Well that answers that question,_ Katrina thinks, recalling how she’d wondered if Michael and Philippa had been lovers. She pushes herself up, but she can’t clearly see Michael’s face, so she shifts to lie on her side, propping herself on her elbow. The young woman has her eyes closed, tears still leaking from under her eyelids, and she looks absolutely miserable. She reaches over to cup Michael’s cheek, and turns her face so that she can see it clearly.

“Look at me, Michael.” She speaks softly, but there’s a hint of her Command voice in it, and the young woman opens her eyes, which are drowning in tears. “You didn’t take advantage of me, love. This was as much my idea as it was yours. And you are absolutely not selfish for wanting things for yourself, okay?”

“Okay.” 

Katrina can tell she’s not convinced of the truth of the words she’s just heard, but she can also tell that Michael is too tired to talk, and right now, she is too. Fighting this bloody war and losing so many people is constantly exhausting.

“When you came in, before, you said you had a proposal,” she says. “I think we’re both too tired to talk about work now, so do you want to stay the night, and we’ll talk about it over an early breakfast here? Or would your rather go back to your own quarters and we’ll meet to discuss it over an early breakfast in the mess hall?”

She can see Michael visibly hesitating, and she uses her thumb to brush a tear off her cheekbone. “ _I_ would like you to stay,” she says with as much conviction as she can muster for nearly 2 am. “But you don’t have to – I’ll be happy with whatever you choose.”

“I – I think I’d like to stay,” she says eventually.

“Okay.” She leans over and presses her lips lightly to Michael’s, then brushes them over her forehead too. “Do you want to borrow some clothes to sleep in, or are you okay as you are?”

“If you’ve got something I could borrow, I’d prefer that.”

“Okay.” 

Katrina rolls off her bed and wanders over to the closet, digging through it until she finds a rather worn shirt that’s on the large size on her so will probably be outsize for Michael. She brings it back to the bed and finds the young woman has pulled her panties back on. She accepts the shirt with a murmur of thanks, and puts it on, buttoning it swiftly. Katrina, meanwhile, digs out her own sleepwear, and drags off her tank, her bra, and her rather damp panties, then pulls on her sleep pants and shirt. Michael is perched on the bottom corner of the bed, so Katrina wraps an arm around her shoulders and squeezes briefly, then says, “Come on, hop in.” She lifts up a corner of the bedding, and Michael crawls in, then Katrina climbs in beside her.

“Computer, end privacy protocol,” she calls softly, and the computer chirps compliance, then she stretches out an arm and switches off the lamp beside her bed. “Computer, lights off.”

The room falls dark, and she can hear Michael breathing beside her. “Do you like to cuddle?” 

“Sometimes.”

“Would you like to cuddle now?”

There’s a long-ish pause, then she says softly, “Yes please.”

“Come here, then.” Katrina clasps her arm and Michael shifts closer, bringing her head to rest on Katrina’s shoulder. She drapes her left arm across Katrina’s waist, and sighs.

Katrina cups the side of her head, then lowers her hand to her shoulder and squeezes briefly. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. You can sleep safe here.”

“Thank you.”

The words are a bare whisper in the dark, but she doesn’t think she’s imagining the relief in the young woman’s voice. She presses her lips to her hair. “Goodnight, Michael.”

“Goodnight, Katrina.”

She lies and listens to Michael’s breathing, and is relieved when she soon hears it deepening into sleep. She closes her own eyes and thinks only of nights when she and Philippa snuggled together after driving each other to repeated orgasms that wore them both out.

 _I’ll look after her as best I can, Philippa,_ she promises silently. She can only hope her best is good enough, because she finds she’s not ready to lose Michael Burnham just yet. 

 

_*** Transmission Ends ***_


End file.
